The Puppet's Master
by zoltaire
Summary: The Wizarding world faces The War at the end of Hermione's 7th year. But the war's outcome may mark the beginning of a completely unexpected regime. In the end, the Puppet's Master will reign.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: The characters and the universe of Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. No disrespect is intended. This story is written for sheer enjoyment. No profit is being made from it. The story itself is mine.

**_The Puppet's Master _**

**_Prologue _**

_The storm-force gales whipped her hair into her eyes as she stood at her balcony. The new moon all but visible, it's great blackness more pronounced than its argent hues ever were, beckoned to her as a lover across time and space. One word whispered it's way into her mind._

'_Soon.'_

_Laughing as only an innocent can, she flung her head back and raised her arms to the ebon orb. She embraced the wonder that is the night. She embraced the new moon in all its dark glory. She embraced the end of waiting, for what she did not know._

'_Soon.'_

_The wind suddenly and completely died. For a short eternity, all the world held it's collective breath. A loud crack rent the stillness of the night. And above the somber castle, the new moon seeped red._

'_It is Time.'

* * *

_

Gasping, the seventeen year old jolted upright in her bed. So many nights she had dreamed such a similar dream. So many nights she had awoken in such a similar way. Something tonight, however, was different.

Quickly jumping out of bed, she threw on her dressing gown and shoved her feet into her slippers. She ran quickly to her balcony and threw open the doors. Upon stepping outside into the cool night air, she looked heaven-wards and grasped the balcony rail for support.

High above her, as in her dream, the new moon shown it's raven light. High above her, as in her dream, the new moon was tinged crimson.

She quickly stumbled back into her chambers, and collapsed into the nearest chair.

_What on earth is going on here?_ She wondered. _Hogwarts, A History never mentioned anything about abnormal lunar phenomena._

As she sat musing, a painful tingling began about two inches above her naval. She quickly drew up her nightshirt and was unable to stifle a scream.

There, clear as day, was a mark reading _'_αγαπημένος'

Further Hogwarts history was made that night as Hermione Granger, Head Girl, Gryffindor Know-It-All, and Best Friend of the Boy-Who-Lived fainted from shock for the first time.

* * *

_The storm-force gales whipped his robes around his form as he quickly hurried across the moor. The new moon all but visible, its great blackness more pronounced than it's argent hues ever were, demanded his presence across time and space. One word whispered it's way into his mind._

'_Soon.'_

_Shaking as only the guilty can, he flung himself upon the ground and groveled at the robes of one who stood commanding under the ebon orb. He choked on the terror that is the night. He trembled before the new moon in all its dark glory. He dreaded the end of waiting, for what he was afraid he knew all too well._

'_Soon.'_

_The wind suddenly and completely died. For a short eternity, all the world held it's collective breath. A loud crack rent the stillness of the night. And above the silent moors, the new moon seeped red._

'_It is Time.'

* * *

_

In a nondescript house in the English countryside, a monster sat deep in meditation and whimpered in terror.

This same monster who had caused such fear and pain to others; this same monster that had cruelly laughed at that pain and fear; this same monster that had sought to re-shape the known world into his own twisted image of rightness, now sat immobilized by his own fear.

This same monster, who most have forgotten was once but a man with a man's dreams and a man's fears, once again knew a man's fear as his master made his presence known.

Jerking back the control he now realized he never had, Tom Riddle cried dry tears and knew true terror for the first time in years.

* * *

The safest place in the Wizarding world lay mostly sleeping in the dead of the night. It's inhabitants secure in the knowledge that the Headmaster and the Boy-Who-Lived would be able to protect them from any evil that may seek to infiltrate the castle walls. After all, there was no more powerful wizard in the world than Albus Dumbledore. And Harry Potter had emerged victorious from the Dark Lord time and time again. Yes, there was surely no place safer to be than Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Even so, deep in the bowels of the Scottish castle known rather unassumingly as 'Hogwarts', black eyes sprang open showing an unquenchable fire and a pallid face split in an unholy grin.

_Oh yes. It is Time._

* * *

AN: αγαπημένος translates to 'beloved' in Greek, according to 


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The characters and the universe of Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. No disrespect is intended. This story is written for sheer enjoyment. No profit is being made from it. The story itself is mine.

_**The Puppet's Master **_

**_Chapter 1_**

The Great Hall was always a noisy place, be it breakfast, lunch or dinner. The carefree laughter of the younger years. The cautious, yet still confident tones of the upper classmen. The hushed whispers and asides of the teachers, just slightly more concerned than usual. All in all, there was not one silent person in the cavernous room. There were four.

Albus Dumbledore sat at his spot in the middle of the Head Table. His benevolent gaze twinkling madly as he surveyed his domain. _His_ domain, for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry truly was _his_. And maybe Mr. Potter's.

Albus had known for some time that Harry's skill was fast approaching his own. Who would have thought that this mere slip of a boy, whose _mother_ had defeated the Dark Lord first, would actually be able to grow into his reputation? His mother, Lily Evans, muggle-born. Now there was power, but also restraint. The calm and the storm all rolled into one. Sort of like another Gryffindor he knew.

Following the direction of his thoughts, the Headmaster's gaze swept the Hall until it alighted upon Hermione Granger. _Now there it is again. The calm and the storm, all rolled into one. Welcome, welcome, Lilly Jr. What use shall we find for you, I wonder._

Moving on to the wizard at her right, the Headmaster's eyes captured Harry Potter's visage. Albus silently pondered his own machinations and how Mr. Potter undoubtedly would fit in them. It was clear the Wizarding world would need a ruler at the conclusion of so many years lived in terror. Now it just remained to be seen which wizard would be that ruler, and which would be dead.

* * *

Harry Potter sighed as he sat poking his uneaten breakfast with the fork held limply in his hand. His scar had hurt more than normal last night. Although that is not what currently troubled him.

Since the Dark Lord's revival in Harry's fourth year, he had become rather used to the searing pain that sporadically afflicted him. It had actually gotten to the point where he couldn't imagine going longer than a few days at a time without feeling as if a brand were being pressed against his temple.

No, what bothered him about this pain was the surge of emotion that accompanied it. Voldemort was always so careful about shielding the strongest of his emotions through the link. True, the link to Harry was quite useful to Voldemort, but it caused more trouble than it was worth when Harry was able to see the Dark Lord's plans. Consequently, only extremely strong emotion would leak through as of late.

This was an emotion Harry had never associated with Voldemort. At least, not an emotion that the Dark Lord himself felt. Fear. Horrible, debilitating fear; and despair.

_Fear and despair. Okay, okay. I get it, fear and despair. But why? What could possibly be so dreadful that Terror Itself would fear it?_ Harry's thoughts ran circles in his brain. Try as he might, he couldn't figure this puzzle out.

Heaving another sigh, Harry glanced at the Head Table and caught the gleam in Dumbledore's eyes. _Yet another manipulation in the works._ Harry lowered his eyes back to his plate and continued to push his now cold food around.

So lost in thought was he that it never occurred to him to question the mood, or lack thereof, of the witch to his left.

* * *

Hermione Granger felt like the walking dead this morning. _Such strange dreams._ Twice now she had had to pinch herself to bring enough attention to the fore to keep from landing face-first in her porridge.

Her mind continued to dart back to the strange marking that had appeared last night on her stomach. She had made plans, shortly after gathering her wits about her to head to the Library during lunch to learn exactly what was written upon her skin. She felt an urgency for the knowledge itself, but curiously felt no unease about the actual marking. It was almost as if she _knew_ it was no danger to her.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Hermione returned to her breakfast. So curious that her normal routine, eat porridge, lecture Ron on table manners, inquire after Harry's well-being, then proceed to affectionately tune out both boys' endless talk of Quidditch; had suddenly disappeared. _As if over night._ Which, of course, led her back to her dreams and her new body art.

She pushed her untouched porridge away from her and instead grabbed a handful of grapes and a pear. _Fruit will keep me awake. It will sharpen my wits, and give me a temporary rush of energy, at least enough to get me through the first half of the day. Although, I could really, really go with some coffee._

As she nibbled upon her chosen repast, she felt a burning gaze bearing down upon her bent head. Raising her eyes from the pear she was dissecting, she caught her Potions Master's eyes. A jolt of awareness streaked through her, as she became trapped in his obsidian orbs.

The blood sped through her veins in an almost audible rush as she spied the flame dancing deep within his eyes. She could feel herself being inexorably drawn in, faster and faster. Just as she was sure she would lose herself in another moment, she heard the silken tones of Severus Snape within her mind.

_"**Beloved. It is time."**_

With a startled cry, she jumped up from the table, eyes still locked on Snape's. Ignoring the indignant cries of Ron Weasley, the questioning glances of her housemates, and Harry's half-concerned inquiry, she sped from the room to her sanctuary. _The Library will help. It has to!

* * *

At the Head Table, Severus Snape sat silently, a wide smirk playing across his lips. As he watched the door to the Great Hall slowly swing shut, the smirk turned into a feral grin. Were it not for the Disillusionment Charm he had cast upon himself this morning after foreseeing just this situation, half of the student body would have fainted dead away._

But, most importantly, Albus Dumbledore would have become suspicious had such unfamiliar emotion graced his countenance. As it was, the old fool was too wrapped up in his own plotting to concern himself with his lowly, effectively cowed and hopelessly contrite Potions Master. This was just fine with Severus Snape.

_The time is at hand. No longer will I need to subject myself to those unworthy to even gaze upon my shadow. My Beloved is of age. Within the fortnight, she shall be bound to me, and then the world for her pleasure. And her for mine._

Smirking triumphantly, Severus Snape rose gracefully from his place and glided from the room. As he was about to exit the Hall, he cancelled the Disillusionment Charm. He had no need to look behind him to know that both Dumbledore's and Potter's heads had snapped up once the charm had been cancelled.

_That's right, you wolves. Learn the scent of your master. I have bided my time, and now the wait is over. And woe befall any who stand in my way.

* * *

_

In the Library, Hermione Granger was safely ensconced in a comfortable wingback chair by one of the numerous windows in the back. Surrounding her were books. Many, many books on all subjects imaginable.

However, despite the scene of efficiency that was displayed to the naked eye, Hermione was perilously close to ripping her hair out by the root out of sheer frustration. _Nothing. All of these books, and nothing at all._ The Library had finally failed her.

As she stood up to pace while she mulled over her problem, her footsteps were led to the Restricted Section. She was drawn to a thin volume, one she had never seen before. Vampyr read the title. Following the same instinct that had guided her steps and hand to the book, she picked up the volume and headed back to her chair.

Suddenly, a wave of dark power the likes of which she had never before felt rolled through her. It felt like a velvet-lined freight train as it slammed into her soul and she knew, _she knew_ that Severus Snape was outside the Library doors.

Unbidden, words as ancient as time itself sprang from her lips and heart in one accord. "Lover. I am Beloved. I Call Thee."

With that utterance, the power sensuously stroked her spirit as it returned to its owner. Severus crossed the Library in the space of a breath and caught her, just as her knees buckled.

Gazing on the face of the young witch in his arms, Severus Snape completed the incantation. "Beloved. I am Lover. I Answer Thee." _Mine. Mine. Mine._ Then, he was sweeping down to the dungeons with his precious burden cradled in his arms.

* * *

:  
AN: Please Review. Comments? Questions? Suggestions? 


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: The characters and the universe of Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. No disrespect is intended. This story is written for sheer enjoyment. No profit is being made from it. The story itself is mine.

_**The Puppet's Master**_

**Chapter 2**

Upon reaching the dungeons, Severus shifted Hermione in his arms and unwarded the door to his private rooms. He opened the door with a quirk of his eyebrow and proceeded into his bedroom. Once there, he placed the still-unconscious witch on his bed, and then sat down in a nearby chair to contemplate what to do from there.

So long he had waited for this time. His beloved was now here, but how to bring her over? From his dreams and observations, he knew he couldn't just bluntly tell her of her destiny. At the same time, to be anything less than truthful would not bode well either. It truly was a quandary.

As he sat thinking, the mark on his arm began to burn. Glancing down at his left forearm, Severus felt a slow, wide smirk transforming his lips. _Yes, my Puppet. I will be dealing with you tonight, but on my time, not yours._ With a muttered "Repurcutio," he turned his attention back to more pressing matters.

Snape stood and made his way to his trunk and removed a goblet and decanter, both platinum and heavily encrusted with emeralds. From the decanter, he poured a generous amount of red liquid into the goblet and resumed his vigil over the Gryffindor Head Girl.

_Now, if I completely bind her to me now, I will lose her trust. But if I proceed slowly, just maybe…_

* * *

Voldemort was livid. He had Summoned his followers two hours ago. All of them had immediately apparated to him and had properly shown deference. All of them, except Severus Snape. 

_How DARE he disobey my Summons?! No one disobeys the Dark Lord without punishment. I have been much too lenient with my erstwhile spy. I do believe dear Severus has outlived his usefulness._

Working himself into quite a rage, Voldemort began taking out his frustrations upon the gathered Death Eaters. However, the faithful were small compensation when it was the guilty he longed to have screaming at the end of his wand.

He gathered his dark magic around him and sent his fury through the link that connected him to Snape. Instead of causing torment to his traitorous Death Eater, though, the Dark Mark bounced his anger-induced curse back to him.

Screaming in impotent rage and pain, Voldemort fell to his knees while his Death Eaters looked on in great terror.

* * *

In the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry Potter echoed Voldemort's scream as the pain and fury of one was felt by the other. Just as Voldemort was simultaneously doing miles away, Harry collapsed to his knees. 

Ron and Ginny Weasley were at his side in the blink of an eye, questioning him and helping him in his attempt to sit up.

"Harry?" cried Ginny. "Harry, talk to me! Don't close your eyes. We need to get you to Madam Pomphrey. We need you alert."

Harry shook his head and tried to respond to her, but the pain was too great and he felt his tenuous hold on consciousness fading as nausea flowed up his gullet. He tried to grasp onto Ron's arm as he saw him moving to stand and run to the portrait entry.

"Don't worry, Harry." Ron yelled as he raced towards the doorway. "I'll be right back with Dumbledore. He'll know what to do!"

Harry attempted a weak call to him to tell him not to notify Dumbledore about this episode, but oblivion successfully claimed him before he could get the first word out of his mouth.

* * *

In the Headmaster's office, Albus Dumbledore gazed intensely into the scrying glass he had charmed to keep tabs on the Boy-Who-Lived. What he saw was most disturbing. Of course, he knew about Potter's 'episodes,' in fact, he counted on them. They were the best way he could keep track of Voldemort, and his best weapon in his fight for rule of the Wizarding world. 

The troubling thing about this episode was its intensity. Never before had Mr. Potter lost consciousness because of the pain. Voldemort must be in agony for the link to affect Harry in this way.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Dumbledore couldn't help but wonder if this somehow tied into the power he had felt in the Great Hall earlier that morning. Something wasn't fitting together right. _What have I overlooked? My plans have been laid out most carefully. What have I missed?_

Turning his thoughts away from their current musings, he schooled his features into the omniscient mask that had become his trademark as he awaited the pounding footsteps of the youngest Weasley boy. There would be plenty of time for introspection later. For now, absolute loyalty and trust must be cultivated once again.

* * *

_She was standing on her balcony again. The crimson tinged new moon shown upon her upturned face once more as she awaited Him. Her Lover. She had Called Him, and He had Answered._

_A feeling of security washed over her and she knew He had joined her on the balcony. She leaned back just a bit and felt His hard chest behind her as His strong arms enveloped her. With a contented sigh, she rested her head on His shoulder._

"_Beloved." He breathed into her ear. "I am here. We are together. You are Mine."_

"_Yes, Lover." She answered without question. After all, this was merely truth.. "I am yours."_

_The night grew still around them as she felt her heartbeat slow to match His tempo. She felt his lips on the top of her head, at her temple, her ear, and finally at her neck. She sighed and tilted her head slightly to provide him with better access to her sensitive flesh._

"_Beloved." He whispered again. "Hermione, Beloved. I must bind you to me. There are those that would seek to take you from me. Beloved, Invite me."_

_He stood silently, awaiting her Invitation, all the while doing marvelous things to the skin of her neck. She gasped and wriggled closer to him._

_He chuckled low in his throat and repeated his entreaty. "Beloved, Invite me."_

"_Yes, Lover." She gasped. "I Invite Thee!"_

_His lips began to move firmly over the column of her neck, followed by His tongue. His fingers stroked down her arms, grasping her left wrist firmly in His hand. His mouth left her neck and she made a noise of dismay, only to shiver moments later as His tongue continued it's sweet torture down her left arm._

_When He had brought her left wrist up to His mouth, He stopped. He glanced at her questioningly. Her face was brilliant, glowing with suppressed desire at the new feelings He was eliciting with just this innocent touch._

"_Lover, I Invite Thee!" She begged of Him to continue._

_Smirking at her reaction to the sensations He caused her, He bent His lips back to her wrist. "Beloved, open your eyes. Beloved, look at me!" He commanded her._

_Her eyes flew open and sought His. Just as her cinnamon gaze met His obsidian one, His fangs slid effortlessly into her wrist and she was well and truly caught._

_

* * *

_Severus withdrew from Hermione's dreamscape and muttered a sleeping charm upon her. It wouldn't do to have her wake up before he returned. In fact, it pleased him greatly to have her in his bed waiting for his return. _My Beloved is where she belongs._

He stood up from his position beside the bed and gazed down at her sleeping form. His hand trailed after his eyes, touching first her face, then her neck, her wrist where two need puncture marks now resided, and her stomach. At her wrist and stomach, heat flared to his touch.

He closed his eyes and sought her mind once more.

"_**Sleep, Beloved. I shall return presently."**_

He then strode from the bedside to gather his cloak and mask. There was yet another task to complete before he could rest.

He smirked as he felt the call of his 'Master' once again. _Yes, that problem shall be rectified immediately._

Despite the anti-appartation wards placed on the castle, Severus pulled his magic around him and disappeared from sight.

* * *

AN: "Repurcutio" translates to: to strike back, make rebound 

I apologise for the Italics placement in the previous chapter. Italics in this story are meant to indicate a dream sequence and the thoughts of the individual. Bold Italics are meant to indicate mind-speak (psychic-speak). I will be fixing the italicised problems as time permits and once again wish to extend my apologies for the confusion.

Please Review. Comments? Suggestions?


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: The characters and the universe of Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. No disrespect is intended. This story is written for sheer enjoyment. No profit is being made from it. The story itself is mine.

**_The Puppet's Master _**

**Chapter 3**

The Headmaster sat in his office after Ron Weasley had left. The red-haired youth had run full-tilt down the corridors towards the Headmaster's office. After an amusing session of watching the youngest Weasley boy try to guess the password, Albus took pity on him and prompted the suggestion into his mind.

Upon entering the office, Ron took no time at all to collect his thoughts; consequently, all the Headmaster received was a garbled story about Harry's scar, pain and fainting. In fact, if it weren't for his prized scrying glass, Albus would have had absolutely no clue of what Mr. Weasley was jabbering on about. As it was, nothing could get by the Headmaster's scrying glass, hence the rumors of him being all-knowing.

Albus Dumbledore heaved a tired sigh. He had dutifully played his part, offered a lemon drop, listened attentively to Mr. Weasley's concerns and then spouted some meaningless drivel about how everything would be okay. _How could it not be okay? After all, the most powerful wizard in the Wizarding world said it would be. And to assure that continues, Mr. Potter will serve his use for me, and then will be disposed of._

Leaning back in his chair with a grin more reminiscent of a Death Eater at a Dark Revel than the paragon of Good he was purported to be, Dumbledore spit out the lemon drop he had put in his mouth when Ron came into his office. _Gods, but I hate those things. First thing to change after I win the war, anyone selling those infernal 'candies' will be Avada'd so fast heads will spin!_

Smiling once more, Albus Dumbledore became lost in the visions of a perfect Wizarding world. _His_ Wizarding world.

* * *

When Harry regained consciousness, the first thing he did was to glance around in a panic, hoping to avert Ron from running to the Headmaster. Over the past two years, Harry's faith in Dumbledore had gradually become less and less of what it once was. _I wonder if I have a place at all in this world, other than just another pawn of the 'Great Albus Dumbledore.'_

Once he was sitting up and scanning the common room, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Alas, his relief was to be short-lived as his red-haired best-friend once again opened his mouth.

"It's okay now, Harry. I told Dumbledore _everything_. He'll take care of it now, so you don't have to worry." Ron mistakenly assumed this would make Harry feel better. However, a quick glance at Ginny proved that he was the only person present who seemed to believe it wasn't such a good idea to tell the Headmaster of his recent episode.

"Oh, Ron," Harry sighed. "I really wished you hadn't done that."

Upon seeing Ron's confused face, Harry forced himself to brighten his countenance.

"I mean, he already has so much to worry about as it is." _Whew,_ thought Harry. _That was close._

Ron just patted him on the back. "You can't carry the world, Harry. Let Dumbledore help you."

Harry just nodded and turned to walk up the stairs to the boy's dorms. _You mean let Dumbledore help himself. I'm not so sure anymore that the Wizarding world will be any better off under him than under Voldemort. I wish Hermione were here._

Harry's head snapped up. It had been hours since he had last seen Hermione. He briefly remembered seeing her at breakfast, but then she had run out for some reason. It was now well past five in the evening and she had yet to turn up.

He turned around and questioned Ron. "Ron, have you seen Hermione any since breakfast?"

Ron cocked his head to the side, thinking back. "No, mate. She was in a right mood this morning, though. She's probably just in the Library. She'll turn up when she's ready."

"Yeah. That's probably it. The Library." So saying, Harry turned back around and resumed his trek to his bed and solitude.

He heard Ginny call after him asking if it wouldn't be better to go to Madam Pomphrey, but he just waved the question away. His own bed was what he needed.

His last thought before crawling into the familiar covers and lending himself to the land of Nod was to wonder if there would be a third choice, someone other than Dumbledore and Voldemort in the coming contest. _At this point, I think I'd rather side with the unknown.

* * *

_

In the bowels of the castle, Hermione Granger slept fitfully. Her mindscape consumed by dreams so real, they could only be visions. Her senses so finely tuned to the dream, she could swear under Veritaserum that she was really there.

She saw Professor Snape appear out of thin air and walk towards a clearing. The sounds indicated he was far from civilization. The very air seemed to be permeated with evil. In this foul miasma, Professor Snape stood proud and unbent, walking towards the originator of so many nightmares with an unhurried confident gait.

She wanted to cry out to him to be careful, to be safe, to come back… _to her_. She could not understand why she would put that last bit in, but this was her dream, so she figured it was all right. All thought abruptly left her mind as his head raised and his fire-filled dark eyes captured her mind's eye.

**_"Beloved, you must not be here now. I will return to you, never fear. Dream now your innocent dreams, as the time for innocence does not last forever."_**

And with that, her dreamscape switched to a different scenario, one in which she was smiling and happy, lying in the grass, talking and cuddling with _Severus Snape_!

Once again, she shrugged this off. She had held him in fascination for a while now, so why shouldn't she dream of him. As she sank deeper into her fantasy, she smiled and breathed a single word. "Severus…"

* * *

Miles away, Severus Snape nodded in satisfaction. The things that would be done this night should not be seen by his beloved. He needed her trust and her love. The punishment he would be exacting from his estranged servant tonight, while due and just, would not put her at ease. 

Raising his psyche to test the currents of magic in the area, he deduced that he had a few hours before he should make his presence known. Voldemort was a fool to think he would be able to sense Severus Snape with the simple spells he usually used. Then again, Severus had never given him any reason to doubt that he could.

Turning on his heel, he strode towards a copse of trees on the edge of the moor. Once within their shelter, he shielded and warded his presence more strongly and sat down to meditate. It would not do for his last acting performance to be anything but phenomenal. And by the end of the night, there would be one less menace to the Wizarding world.

* * *

AN: I feel I owe everyone an apology, as I know that I for one was looking forward to the showdown between Voldemort and Severus. Unfortunately, I do not feel I could do the scene justice at the present time, so that will be the next update. I apologize for the delay, but I would rather take my time and get it right than slap it together quickly and hope for the best. 

Please Review. Suggestions? Comments?


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: The characters and the universe of Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. No disrespect is intended. This story is written for sheer enjoyment. No profit is being made from it. The story itself is mine.

**The Puppet's Master **

**Chapter 4**

Eight-thirty found Severus stirring from his position of meditation. He opened his eyes and oriented himself on his surroundings. Once again, he lifted his psyche to scent the magic and smirked to himself. _Tom has stewed long enough. This night, the new order dawns._

Breathing deeply, he unfurled his body from its contorted shape and stretched muscles that had begun to cramp from staying still in an awkward position for so long. He gracefully gained his feet and once again breathed deeply, clearing his mind and body from all extraneous thought.

Casting a look towards the heavens, he ascertained the clearness of the night and the phase of the moon. A full moon tonight. Exactly two weeks to finish the binding of his Beloved. _But first, retribution. _This was the last night he would have to play the sycophant. This was the last night he would have to pretend obeisance to the hypocritical monster known as Lord Voldemort.

With that last thought, he silently strode through the trees and onto the open moor. He followed the trail of magic that was emitted by Voldemort's anger and soon spotted the gathering in the distance.

Waving his hand, he was clothed in the robes and mask of a Death Eater. His demeanor changed has he walked, becoming reverently bowed, with his eyes fixed firmly on the ground. He had no need to raise his gaze to know the goings-on around him. He inwardly smirked as he heard the first murmurs of the waiting throng.

He felt Voldemort's head snap up as he entered the outer circle. His measured tread infuriating the Dark Lord further. Not only was he late, he made no attempt to hurry to his Lord's side to beg forgiveness.

Around him, the murmurs turned ugly as the tortured Death Eaters looked upon the reason for their pain. Severus could practically feel them salivating for the sight of his blood, the sound of his screams, the smell of his body's loss of control. _So sorry to disappoint you. Perhaps Mr. Riddle will see fit to provide your entertainment tonight. Yes, I do believe that would be most… acceptable._

"Severus," hissed Voldemort once he had cleared the last circle and dropped to his knees in homage. "Exactly why have you seen fit to ignore my Summons?"

Severus opened his mouth to give the expected response, yet found he could no longer continue the charade. He closed his mouth and continued to watch the ground, mentally preparing himself for the onslaught of _crucio_ he knew to be gathering. Although the _cruciatus_ had little effect on him, it was definitely a nuisance to pretend the agony that was the expected result of this curse. _Ah well, I guess I will begin sooner than planned._

His attention was snapped back to the present as Voldemort continued speaking.

"Well? No response, my _loyal_ servant? Your brethren are most vexed with your lack of courtesy. You have missed the games tonight. Perhaps, we should… educate… you on the fun you have missed." With that, Voldemort raised his wand and shouted "_Cruico!_"

The desired effect, however, was lacking. Severus remained neutral as the Dark Lord's curse flowed around him, causing the merest jolt to his skin where it touched.

Enraged, Voldemort called upon his Death Eaters to have some 'fun' with their brother. As more and more dark curses were thrown at him, Severus centered his magic, gathering it for the outcome. He reached up a steady hand and grasped the silver mask of his Death Eater garb. He removed the mask and threw it to the ground.

Voldemort was beyond livid. With a gesture, he signaled to those assembled to end their curses. He drew himself up to his full height and glowered down at Severus.

"You have now proven yourself to be more bother than you are worth. I had been prepared to grant you mercy; your life would have remained intact. Such a display of mutiny as you have just shown allows me only one choice." Voldemort's mock-fatherly tones of sorrow quailed many of the Death Eaters, causing more than a few to unwittingly step back. Smirking, Voldemort delivered the final coup de grâce, "I am truly sorry, my son."

Smiling maliciously, Voldemort raised his wand and began the final incantation. "_Avada Ka…_"

Severus' head snapped and ensnared the eyes of the Dark Lord. Dark power resonated out from Snape's form and Voldemort knew the reason for his night-terror. The so-called Dark Lord's eyes widened as he heard the voice of his dreams and fears loud and clear in his mind.

"_**Do you really think that to be wise, Tom?"

* * *

**_

In Hogwarts castle, Harry's eyes snapped open in fear. His mouth opened in a silent scream as wave after wave of emotion rolled through him with the force of a freight train. He thrashed on his bed for all of two minutes before his eyes glazed over and he lost consciousness once more.

Down below in the common room, Ron and Ginny sat talking over a game of Wizard's chess, completely oblivious to the plight of the boy upstairs. The glow of the fire lent the common room a homey, cozy feel that completely belied the goings on miles away on a windswept moor.

* * *

Voldemort stared mutely at his one-time servant, as his mind slowly began to comprehend what was occurring. He had known there was a price to be paid. There always is with Power. _Not yet!_ His mind shrieked, even as no sound passed his lips. _It is almost finished! Payment cannot, must not be collected yet!_

"**_Ah, Tom."_** Snape's smooth tones echoed within his captive's mind. **_"Always will it be 'Almost finished.' You know well the terms of our… agreement. Twenty-five years, Tom. A quarter of a century. Your time is expired. Alas, the same shall now be visited upon your existence. Pity that."_**

Severus focused his energy once more and brutally shoved his psyche into Voldemort's mind. The former Dark Lord's body bucked in a last ditch, yet still fruitless attempt to cast out his attacker. Within the blink of an eye, Severus found himself inside the twisted hallways of Voldemort's mind.

He smirked and followed the essence, the spirit-trail to the cowering figure hiding in the shadows.

**_"Tom, Tom. You know it is pointless to put this off any longer. You know the payment I seek. You have no choice. Why fight, Tom? Why prolong the agony, for I assure you, there will be agony in bountiful supply without adding this time of wait, this meaningless cat-and-mouse game."_** Snape taunted Voldemort while pretending to search for him.

Voldemort tried in vain to still the whimper that rose to the back of his throat. The sound was like blood in the water. Severus slowly rotated his head around to gaze directly into Voldemort's crimson eyes. Severus' one eyes bled dark power as his skin became blindingly bright. He allowed his fangs to lengthen and, in a lightning quick move, was beside Voldemort.

Voldemort attempted to move, but found himself restrained by an iron grip on his shoulders. He gazed in terror upon what would be his last sight in the corporeal world; his mind's eye locked on the psyche of Severus Snape, even as their physical bodies engaged in an identical staring contest. Could even Hell be as frightening as those onyx orbs, deep and merciless as the darkest Abyss? What Demon could torment him as much as the Devil before him? How fitting, that the end to the Dark Lord should occur in an arena where he was even more powerless than the Muggles he so delighted in torturing. Within the confines of his own mind, Voldemort was at Snape's mercy. Within the mind, any mind, Severus Snape ruled supreme.

Severus anchored his prey firmly in place with one arm while using the other to wrench his head back, exposing where the jugular vein would be in the physical realm. Although it was not necessary to restrain the captive physically, he found the feeding to be more satisfying that way. The real appeal to mindscape-feeding verses physical-realm feeding was in the mindscape, not only blood was consumed, but also spirit. In the mindscape, physical sensations (i.e. pain, pleasure, etc.) were much more intense than in the physical-realm.

He reared his head back, and then lunged forward at such an angle as would drive his fangs in to the hilt. As his gums smacked skin, his will cast a variant of the _cruciatus_ curse, radiating out from his buried fangs. With every pull of blood, of essence, a fresh wave of pain washed over Voldemort. The pain varied, razors and nail files on skin, fishhooks in eyelids, saws on limbs, acid, fire, rape, crushed bones. The sensations crashed one on top of the other, damage painfully healed, leaving an almost fresh slate for the different sensation to take its turn on the rotation. The last moments of Voldemort's life were stretched into an eternity of excruciating pain. Each and every torture he had visited upon helpless others, all at once, returned to him.

The fear and agony sweeping through Voldemort's spirit was the sweetest of ambrosia to Severus. His pleasure was heightened all the more by the knowledge that the destruction of this monster would keep his Beloved safe.

Alas, all good things must eventually come to an end. As the weak pulse that was Voldemort's life thread grew duller and duller, Severus withdrew his fangs and let the empty husk of Voldemort's psyche fall to the ground. He gathered his will around him and seconds later was back in his body, gazing dispassionately at the empty shell that was the Dark Lord.

Aware of the silence surrounding him, he flicked as casual hand at the body and watched in satisfaction as it toppled to the ground, just as the spirit of the monster had. Severus allowed the tenseness of the moment to build until it felt as if it would snap. Then he turned to face the assembled throng.

The fear on the faces of the Death Eaters was hidden from view by their silver masks, yet still unmistakable. The way they held their bodies, poised for flight spoke volumes about the mental state of the most feared group in all of Wizarding Europe. Snape smirked at the reaction.

He drew himself up proudly and addressed the group. "Tonight is the dawning of a new era. Tonight, the Wizarding World will slumber peacefully, not knowing what has occurred beneath this moon. Tonight, the Hypocrite, the _true_ blood traitor has been vanquished. Tonight, Tom Riddle has claimed his rightful place among the worms of the earth. Is there any who wish to join him?"

Stillness reigned amidst the assembled Death Eaters. None could help the direction their eyes darted occasionally to the form of their deceased former master. As one, they lifted their gaze to Severus and bowed deeply before him.

"Nothing will be spoken to the outside world, be it Wizarding or Muggle, about what has transpired here this night. It suits my purpose for my enemies to believe Riddle to still bealive. Any who disobey this command shall be punished." He let the last word hiss through the night, allowing no misunderstanding of his meaning.

Lucius Malfoy stepped forward and removed his mask. He bowed before him with courtly grace. As Lucius stood, Severus grasped his forearm. Their eyes locked and communication passed between the two.

**_"My Brother. She is secured. One of two in my way has been dealt with. Will you stand with me? Will the Children of Sun and Moon once again rule as destined?"_** The Dark One asked of the Light One.

**_"My Brother. As destined we were, now as destined we will be. Guard her well. There are those who may seek to harm your Beloved."_** With a nod and a bow, Lucius turned and walked to the edge of the circle. There he apparated away. There was much to prepare.

One by one, each of the Death Eaters stepped forward to pledge their oaths to their new Master. Looking into the eyes of each new servant, Severus was able to discern the motive and truth behind each conversion. Those who held maliciousness in their souls were noted. They would be dealt with once the time was right, until then, they had their usefulness.

After the last of his followers had left the moor, he focused his will and apparated himself back to Hogwarts.

* * *

Severus appeared in his quarters and strode directly towards the bathing chamber to cleanse himself of the night's work. He reflected on all that had happened at the meeting and found he was most pleased with the recent turn of events.Once he had finished his ablutions, he walked back to his bed. 

Hermione still lay sleeping, a slight smile curving her lips. Severus sat down upon the bed as he gazed at her. His mind reached out to stroke her essence, causing her to moan in her sleep at the pleasure of the sensation. A genuine smile played at the corners of Snape's mouth as she subconsciously reached for him. He gathered her into his arms while planning how he would handle her once he roused her from her slumber.

His gaze glanced over at his end table where a thin tome lay. He had seen her with it in the Library earlier this morning, right before the ritual was begun. He smirked to himself after thinking on the book for a moment. _Yes. That tome will be the best way to impart certain information._ Content with the answer to his problem, he turned his thoughts back to the witch in his arms as he waited for her awakening.

* * *

In the Gryffindor boys' dorm room, Harry passed the rest of the night in the first full, uninterrupted sleep he had had in seven years. The Boy-Who-Lived briefly touched his forehead in his sleep, sighed, and then slipped further into his dreams.

* * *

AN: I feel it fair to warn everyone that, just as it took me longer than I had hoped to get this chapter out, I fear the next will also be a time in coming. My ideas are not flowing so well at the moment. I beg you all to stay with me, this story will not be abandoned, but updates may be few and far between until my muse decides a labor strike is not in her best interests.

Also, a BIG thank you to all who have reviewed so far. Even a quick 'good story' or 'intriguing' provides incentive for me to sit down and rack my tired brain for ideas for your viewing pleasure. Please continue with the reviews, and please don't hesitate to tell me if there's something I can do better.

Please Review. Comments? Suggestions?


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: The characters and the universe of Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. No disrespect is intended. This story is written for sheer enjoyment. No profit is being made from it. The story itself is mine.

**The Puppet's Master**

**_Chapter 5_**

_Underneath a Weeping Willow, Hermione stretched lazily in a field of lavender in her dreamscape. She felt… peaceful. Such a long time since that particular emotion had revealed itself to her. She sighed in complete contentment as the sunshine bathed her relaxed form. The gentle brushes of plants beneath her tickled her bare feet, causing her pleasure at the simple sensation to bubble forth in the form of a tinkling laugh._

_She felt a stirring in the currents of air and jumped up from her supine position. Her face brightened still further as He came into view. She drank in the sight of him while swiftly moving to intercept him._

"_Lover. I have missed you."_

_His onyx eyes trapped hers even as his long legs strode towards her. He gathered her body in his arms and, bending his head to capture her mouth, tasted the truth of her welcome. After a small eternity of blissful kisses, he raised his head to gaze into her eyes again._

"_And I you, Beloved."_

_He gently turned her and escorted her back over to the willow and helped her to resume her seat. The unfortunately forgotten mannerisms of the old-world gentleman were still appreciated, even by a modern witch. Once she was comfortable, he lowered his frame to the ground and gracefully lounged beside her. He still held her hand in his as his thumbs drew lazy circles upon her flesh, caressing the inside of her wrist._

_Hermione shuddered as the burning of desire in the pit of her stomach flared at his touch. Her eyes dropped shut to savor the feeling, an almost inaudible noise emitting from her throat. He watched her single-mindedly and when she opened her eyes, he gave her a sensual smirk that spiked her desire to an almost fever pitch. Her throat and lips dried, even as all moisture in her body streamed down to her core. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, a movement which his heated eyes followed._

_With a growl, he gathered her close once more and crashed his lips down upon hers. His tongue traced the sweet curve of her mouth, a suggestion of entrance that brooked no refusal. She parted her lips with no hesitation and was promptly lost in the sensation of his tongue firmly stroking hers, running over her teeth, and conquering her willing mouth completely. The continued to taste each other for several minutes, each touch becoming more heated, each nip a little harder, each stroke a little firmer. Finally, he made a concerted effort to pull himself away from her, letting a deep groan loose when she moaned in protest._

"_Beloved, we must stop, for now." He admonished her as she clung tighter to him, attempting to maneuver his mouth back to hers. He gave a low chuckle that had absolutely nothing to do with humor at her actions, but gently, though firmly, removed her arms from around his neck. He leaned against the willow and pulled her back into him. His arms caressed her sides as he began to speak._

"_Beloved, you must return to the waking world soon. Events of much import have occurred this night, but you will not know of it for some time. It saddens me, Beloved, that you will also not remember this time in the waking world." He glanced down at her wide eyes and was unable to resist planting a small kiss on her pert nose._

"_What do you mean I 'won't remember this time'? How could I forget you, my Lover? What do I care for important events around me if I haven't you?"_

"_Oh, my Love," he sighed. "This is for your own safety. My enemies would not hesitate to use you against me. How could I survive, having finally found you after a lifetime of waiting, if you were taken from me? My Heart, my Own. Your waking mind will not remember me as this, not as your Lover. Your soul will never be fooled; your soul knows its mate. But your mind will not for a time."_

_Hermione's eyes blurred as tears of frustration trembled on her eyelashes. She understood his reasoning. She was, after all, logical above all else. But not knowing her Lover, knowing there was a part missing, but not knowing what. Oh, the pain would be so harsh. She gathered her courage around her and nodded her head to indicate she understood, though she could articulate no response for the closing of her throat._

_He pressed her lips once again in a kiss full of promise and love, no less moving than the heated kisses of before, but somehow more enduring. He pulled back once again._

"_Beloved. When you wake, you will not remember this. But there is a book that will help you to find your way back to me. The tome will be on your bedside table in your room. Beloved, appearances are often deceiving. You must carefully weigh each piece of information you receive, both through book knowledge, and people. You must begin to question motive." His gaze bore intensely into hers as he struggled to communicate the severity of his words. These words would be remembered, though their time would not. He poured his soul into them, giving them power to remain in her memory._

"_I will remember, my Lover. I will soon be with you, as we are meant to be." The promise in her eyes was almost his undoing. He swooped down and branded her with one last fiery kiss._

"_I will see you in dreams, my Beloved." _

_With that, he vanished from her dreamscape, leaving her alone to ponder the familiarity of her Lover.

* * *

_

Severus opened his eyes and looked down at the form of the witch beside him. Her lips were red and swollen from their kisses in her dreamscape. He glanced at the tome 'Vampyre' and with a thought banished it to the bedside table in Hermione's room.

He then gathered her more securely in his arms and apparated into her room. He placed her in her bed and pulled the covers up over her body. He glanced down once more, laying a soulful kiss on her lips. Straightening up, he whispered the incantation to wake her and disappeared from the room.

As Hermione's eyelids flickered open, a dear face lingered at the forefront of her mind, even as her last words of the dream drifted from her lips "…as we are meant to be." And then, both words and image receded into her mind, to be remembered only in dreams.

Her eyes darted over to her bedside table and landed on the small tome resting there.

_'Vampyre,' hmmm? I must have put it there after I came back from the Library last night. Well, let's have a look-see, shall we?_

She grabbed the book and began to read, within moments immersed in the most intriguing work she had ever read.

* * *

Five a.m. found Hermione beginning to stir from the book that had captured her attention for the past three hours. Her stomach growled for the second time in twenty minutes. Sighing in exasperation, she closed the book, placed it on her bedside table and stretched her way out of bed. She glanced at her enchanted alarm clock; cast one last longing look at the book she was forced to abandon, even for a short time, and started toward the bathroom to prepare for the day. 

She showered and dressed in record time and was almost out the door with her bookbag when she suddenly paused at the threshold and turned back towards the mirror. Without thought, she walked towards her reflection and was dismayed at what she found. Sighing once more, she brandished her wand and set to work polishing her appearance.

After the longest fifteen minutes of primping she had had to endure in a long time, she deemed herself ready to face the day. She critiqued her appearance in the mirror, gave a slight nod of satisfaction, and turned back towards the door.

It was only at the doors of the Great Hall that she questioned why she would be more concerned about her appearance today than she had been yesterday. She wracked her brain for the answer. Mentally shrugging as she drew a blank, she placed palms on the doors to the Great Hall in preparation of opening them. She paused another moment in an attempt to quail the curious combination of giddiness and nervousness that was settled in the pit of her stomach for some reason. She blew out a breath of air, lifted her chin and proceeded to enter the Great Hall with all the stature of a queen.

She glanced at the Head Table and was hit with an almost palpable wave of disappointment. Seated were Professors Vector, Flitwick and Sinistra. She nodded her greeting to them all the while trying to inconspicuously locate any other Professors in the room.

She started as she her mind finally caught up with her subconscious. _Why do I care which Professor is here and which isn't. Good grief, Hermione! Get a grip. You just need your coffee, that's all. No caffeine and your mental processes fall completely apart._ After sternly chastising herself for the completely out of character thoughts, she turned her attention to Gryffindor table and promptly felt her jaw drop in amazement.

"Harry?" she said as she beheld the incredible sight of her best friend, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, sitting at the table eagerly piling enough food onto his plate to do Ron proud.

He looked up at the sound of his name. His face broke into a grin and he motioned her over. "Come have a seat, 'Mione. It was getting really lonely here all by myself." He gestured at the near empty table with a hand holding a fork while patted the seat beside him with the other, encouraging her to sit down.

Hermione numbly walked over and sank like a stone onto the bench. Her eyes never leaving Harry's unusually animated face as she drank in the sight of him. _His eyes are sparkling! Sparkling! That must be the first time in over two years that there's been any emotion there at all. There's no dark circles under them, either. He looks rested, and almost content. He's even talking about something other than Quidditch, for Merlin's sake!_

Harry paused mid-shovel with the fork still in his mouth as he noticed Hermione's eyes still glued to him. He finished his bite of food, placed the fork down on the table and turned to face her completely. "Hermione," he began. "What's going on? Have I suddenly grown a third eye, or is there a reason you're staring at me like you've never seen me before?"

Hermione jolted out of her thoughts and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry about that, Harry," she said. She quickly gathered her thoughts, speaking carefully, so as not to banish his uncommonly good humor. "You just look really good this morning. You look, content." She winced at the word, but could not grasp another to describe her observations. She steeled herself for the inevitable explosion, and watched on in wonder, as it didn't happen.

Harry listened to what she said, absorbed it if you will. He cocked his head to the side and really _thought_ about what she said. _Content? I'm not really sure if I even know what that feels like. Hmm, I am feeling rather well this morning. And a complete night's sleep, no nightmares. Yes, I suppose I am as content as I've ever been._ He focused back on Hermione's face and was disturbed at the resignation he saw there. _Did she really expect me to get angry with her?_ He thought back over the past couple of years, ever since fifth year, and was disturbed at the knowledge that he had given her every reason to expect it of him.

He smiled at Hermione, which amazed her even more. "Thanks, Hermione. I feel content, I guess. It's amazing what a good night's sleep will do, don't you think."

Hermione let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and grinned back at him. She nodded and began to pile her own plate full of food. They held an amicable conversation, catching up on things they hadn't realized they had missed until then.

* * *

Severus did not sleep that night. He did not restlessly pace his quarters rebuking his lack of self-control with Hermione. He did not wonder fretfully about what the Headmaster would think of his liaison with the Head Girl. He did not search his soul for his own motives. 

Severus spent the night in deep conversation with one Mr. Lucius Malfoy. He had cast an apparation bubble within his quarters, allowing Lucius the ability to bypass the anti-appartition wards surround Hogwarts. They had much to discuss.

"Lucius, old friend, how have you been these past few weeks?" asked Severus verbally, even as his mind bespoke his friends. **_"I would that we keep the pretense of mundane speech aloud. There are many ears in Hogwarts that should not be here. If I were to shield these quarters completely, my hand would be well and truly played before its time."_**

"The same as always, Severus. And how is my son doing this term? I have not had occasion to speak with him for many weeks. Can his godfather shed light on the Little Dragon?" Lucius replied. **_"Of course, Severus. How do you wish me to begin? By the way, might I commend you for the past evening's events? I am pleased that your flair for dramatics has remained untouched by the old fool."_**

Severus allowed a smirk to play across his features in answer to Lucius mental comment, as it was justified by the verbal as well. "Young Draco is progressing admirably. He is not the top of his class, but he is not far behind. I am honestly quite pleased with his success and position. There are many bright minds he has tackled and won over, not that I would repeat that at pain of _Crucio_, of course." **_"We must seduce Mr. Potter from Dumbledore's grasp. That is the first order of business. We must use any means necessary, as his support is more important than most will recognize. She would be most… unhappy, should any harm befall him. I would not have her unhappy, Lucius."_** He shot a sharp, piercing glance at the blonde beside him.

Lucius bowed his head respectfully; the gesture easily misconstrued as merely a 'good-bye,' especially when coupled with his spoken words. "As you see him more than myself, I trust your judgment in this matter. That you are pleased is enough for me, and I will use all of my resources to ensure that such favorable disposition continues. I shall meet you again in a month for continued report." **_"I will do as commanded, my Brother. Potter will not fall to Dumbledore, and your Beloved will not have cause to fret on my account. I have a few favors I can call in, as I am not entirely without influence. It will have Riddle's panache, as well."_**

Severus nodded in approval and bid him 'good-night.' Then, Lucius apparated from sight, Severus banished the appartion bubble. He turned and strode to the cabinet where his after-hours drinks were kept. He poured out a snifter of brandy, made his way to his armchair in front of the fire, sat down and contemplated his next move.

_How is the best way to expose Dumbledore? More importantly, how can I do it quickly, without harming my Beloved?_

He allowed his thoughts to pursue her. They found her in the Great Hall talking with Mr. Potter. Her happiness flooded his mind, as if spilling from an over-full goblet. He looked at Harry through Hermione's eyes and saw the relaxed, vibrant teenager in place of the haggard and bent, weary young man of yesterday. _Hmmm._ He thought. _That is an improvement. It makes my Beloved happy to see her friend thus. He seems to take great stock in her opinions, that much has been made clear over the years. Maybe the question isn't how I can expose Dumbledore, but how Hermione can expose him. I am quite certain all Mr. Potter needs is a push, a third option to be revealed, and I will have him.

* * *

_

As the morning wore one, Hermione and Harry began to wind their conversation down. The Great Hall became noisier as more and more students came down for a quick brunch before heading to the last Hogsmeade weekend of the month.

They sat in companionable silence for a time, content just to be. Both knew that the uncertainty of real life would crash into their ideal far too soon for either of their liking. Unfortunately, real life chose that moment to intrude, in the presence of Albus Dumbledore.

As the aged Headmaster entered the Great Hall, Hermione became aware of a change in Harry. She glanced at him, confusion mounting as she took in his changed posture and facial expressions. Gone was the happy, animated face, the open, expressive face. Gone was the confidant set of his shoulders. Gone was the sparkle in his green eyes.

Hermione gazed upon her best friend, all pretense of covertness having disappeared. She took in his carefully blank face, his slumped shoulders, his flat, dull eyes. Her heart broke at the abrupt change in Harry. He looked like every burden he had previously been carrying had been slammed back upon his young shoulders, plus interest.

In confusion, she turned her gaze towards the Headmaster. He radiated joviality and sincere grand-fatherly warmth as always. That was not what made her catch her breath, though.

For a split second, when that warm twinkling gaze had alighted on Harry, a dark maliciousness had filtered in. Had Hermione turned her head a fraction of a second later, she would have missed it.

She furrowed her brow and swung her eyes back to Harry. His face and posture remained unchanged.

Harry felt her stare upon him and raised his eyes to meet hers. He could tell she had witnessed what he had been beginning to believe was just his imagination. He nodded once and spoke five powerful words. "Now you begin to understand."

* * *

At the Head Table, Albus Dumbledore was holding court amongst his sycophants. For the first time ever, the revered Headmaster was not aware that something of momentous import had just occurred with two of his students. 

TBC

A/N: Wow. It's been, what, 5 months since my last update? Goodness, I am sorry. Hopefully, my other offering, 'Nemesis,' has been to your liking, and will hopefully help to tide everyone over while the next few chapter of 'The Puppet Master' are in the works. I'm finding it much easier to write Hermione than Severus. I adore both characters, but I think being a woman myself makes it easier to slip into Hermione's shoes (or in Nemesis' case, scabbard.)

Many many thanks to Fallenstar80 for her email encouragement. Everyone say a round of 'thank-yous' to this dear reader for lighting the fire under my muse's hind quarters so that I could get this chapter out. Alright, all together now: THANK YOU FALLENSTAR80!

As always, please read and review.


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